These Moments
by Paper Flight
Summary: A random assortment of one-shots mostly concerning Soul and Maka with the other members of Spartoi scattered in. Expect everything from pure crack to angst.
1. Red

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Soul Eater.

* * *

**Red**

* * *

His eyes were red, but they seemed to shift colors depending on his mood.

When she barged into his room in the morning, armed with a frying pan, his eyes would be bloodshot, the whites tinted pink. He'd rub them blearily, blink at her a few times, then ignore her and pull the covers back over his head.

A few seconds later, he'd find himself sailing out the window, sent flying by the frying pan.

When she made his favorite dinner, they would light up and she thought they looked like rubies, the way they sparkled as he smiled at her, before grinning hugely with his sharp teeth and devouring the meal whole.

When he played the piano, his eyes reminded her of red wine. They were dark, almost a deep purple, as he focused on the keys, but sometimes when he moved his head or glanced at her occasionally to gauge her expression, the light would reflect off his eyes and she could catch a glimpse of brilliant crimson before he looked back down at his hands again. Then she would feel drunk and heady, like she could drown in those dark crimson pools.

Sometimes, often during a particularly difficult mission, she would stumble and the demon would pounce, backhanding her viciously and sending her flying. Then he would switch back from his Weapon form and stand protectively in front of her. She couldn't see them, but then his eyes would look like dark pools of blood, savage and murderous as he bared his teeth at the demon_,_ ready to tear apart anyone who harmed his meister.

But her favorite was during those times when they were by themselves, just talking about anything and everything, and he would laugh and smile. Then, she thought his eyes were like a fire, cozy and red, giving her warmth.

_~end~_


	2. Sandwich

**Sandwich**

* * *

Soul was sitting on the couch in their living room, watching TV. Maka was in her room, most likely reading a book or studying. He flipped through the channels listlessly, bored, and was about to turn off the TV and and go fiddle around with his guitar when Maka opened the door to her room and disappeared into the kitchen. Soul suddenly realized that he'd forgotten to eat lunch.

"Hey Maka, can you make me a sandwich while you're in there?" he called out.

"No," she replied, "I'm going to have a pasta salad. You can make your own sandwich."

Soul pouted and suddenly remembered something he'd heard the other day on TV. Unthinkingly, he blurted it out loud.

"Go make me a sammich, bi–" Soul's eyes widened and he clamped a hand over his mouth as he realized what he'd been about to say. Horrified at the words which had just popped out of his mouth, Soul cringed and scooted as far away from the kitchen as possible.

Too late.

It was deathly quiet as Maka emerged from the kitchen, a meat cleaver held in one hand. The butcher knife made threatening smacking sounds as she slapped the flat part of the blade menacingly against the palm her other hand. Her eyes were like shards of green glass.

"_What did you just say?"_ she hissed at him, raising the meat cleaver as she approached Soul, who was now cowering against the wall. She swung the meat cleaver down, slicing off the tips of his shockingly white hair, and the blade slammed into the wall. Chunks of plaster rained down on him. If he hadn't reacted so quickly, his head would've split in two. Wrenching the blade free from the wall, she raised the meat cleaver a second time, murder in her eyes – something told Soul that she wouldn't miss this time.

Soul whimpered and fled into the safety of his room, deciding that now was not the best time to say, "Get back in the kitchen."

_~end~_


	3. Yearning

**Yearning**

* * *

**A/N:** I feel like I should owe an explanation for this one, at least for the first part. I was watching the episode where Soul plays the piano to help resonate souls with everyone and Soul's playing made me want to laugh and cry at the same time. I know it's animated, but it made me cringe nonetheless.

* * *

Soul was flipping through the channels randomly, pausing at a station every few seconds before switching again to a different show. He stopped at one suddenly because he heard piano music. It was some dumb shonen anime, but he watched it anyways, just so he could hear the melody.

Maka came into the living room a few minutes later to find Soul crouched in front of the TV, a dark scowl on his face.

"Hey, what're you watching?" she asked, approaching him.

He waved his hand at the screen, sniggering. "Look at this guy, what a loser! You can't play the piano with your shoulders all hunched over and your elbows sticking in the air like that. Hah! He looks like a chicken. And what kind of piece is that, anyway?"

Maka sighed and walked over to peer closely at the screen.

"I dunno, Soul, I think he kinda looks like you," she said suddenly. "Like if you were an anime character. I mean, look at the hair! And he's kind of got the same color eyes as you. And even the teeth. And even – hey, this is kinda weird." She scrutinized the screen through narrowed eyes.

Soul turned to face her, affronted. "Tch, I can play better than _that_ at least," he muttered and switched off the TV.

Maka looked at him coyly. "Oh, really? I mean, it's been so long since I heard you…maybe you could play for me now to prove it?"

Soul smiled at her half-heartedly, eyes dark. "Nice try. Besides, we don't even have a piano, remember?"

Maka pouted.

* * *

The next night, Soul left her to do the dishes by herself, mumbling some lame excuse about "going for a walk." Already in a bad mood, she stormed into her room, deciding that doing some math problems would help calm her down, only to discover that she'd left one of her notebooks in her locker. After grousing to herself, annoyed, she got up from her desk, grabbing her jacket as she left her room.

She collected the missing book from her locker and took a detour towards a different exit. As she walked down the hall, she could hear a faint melody drifting towards her, echoing in the corridor. Curious (after all, who would be at school at this time of day?), she followed the sound.

Maka found herself tip-toeing down the halls, though she wasn't sure why. The music got louder and louder until she found herself facing the door to the music room. She peered through the window and froze.

It was Soul.

Whipping her head away from the window, she slid down to the floor and sat down, leaning against the door. She closed her eyes. It was a haunting piece, beautiful and dark. The only other time she'd heard him play was when they'd first met as meister and weapon. Then, the song had been mysterious too, though more sinister and foreboding. _This is the kind of person I am_, he'd said.

But this song was different. It was wistful and sad, full of melancholy. Maka found herself struggling to put the tune into words. Bittersweet. Like there was something she could see, something she wanted, but it was just out of grasp. _Yearning._ That was the word. She wanted to hear it up close, not muffled through the door, but she knew he would stop playing the second he realized someone was listening. She closed her eyes and let the haunting notes wash over her, but the temptation was too strong. Standing up slowly, she put her hand tentatively on the handle of the door, slowly applying pressure. Then she opened the door, just a sliver.

The effect was immediate.

The song cut off right in the middle of a phrase, and Soul's head whipped around, his red eyes narrowed. Maka opened the door completely, revealing herself, and took a step into the room. When he saw it was her, his expression relaxed somewhat, but his voice was hostile.

"Maka. What are you doing here?"

"I – I left my notebook in my locker, so I had to come back and get it. And I heard you playing." He looked at her, eyes cold. "It was…really good." she said, somewhat lamely.

_Biggest understatement of my life._

Soul laughed bitterly. "You're just saying that because you don't know anything about music."

Maka recoiled, stung. "Even if I don't, who cares? I still think it was beautiful," she said. Angrily, she turned to leave and stormed towards the door.

"Wait," he called, softly. She turned back. He contemplated her, red eyes unreadable. Then his lips formed a small smile. "Take a seat." He shifted on the bench to make room for her.

Curious, she walked over slowly, set her notebook on the floor next to the bench, and sat down. She glanced at him questioningly and he grinned, white teeth flashing. "You interrupted me in the middle of playing. I have to finish it, don't I?"

Then he set his fingers on the ivory keys and began from where he'd left off.

Maka watched him with a mixture of awe and some fear. It was exquisite. The notes flowed together seamlessly, growing louder into a tumultuous crescendo, before dropping suddenly, then swelling up again. But it scared her too, because although the music was enthralling, it was so mournful. And when she looked at Soul's face, she would've thought that his heart was breaking. It scared her because she knew that he wasn't just playing the piano, but expressing himself through it, through this song. At times, the melody would take a softer and sweeter tone, the notes dulcet and silvery, but then it would fade back to the darker theme. _Yearning. _She closed her eyes, and was surprised to find a tear leak out of the corner of her eye.

Eventually, the song trailed off, and Soul played the last phrase. When he was done, the last note hung in the air, soft and melancholy. He kept his hands on the keys for a second, and then set them down on his lap. He turned to look at her.

"So, did you like it?" he asked, his voice nonchalant and contrasting completely with the melody he's just played.

She looked away quickly and wiped her eyes on the back of her hand. Staring fixedly at her lap, she said, "Yeah. It was great. What was it about?"

Soul tilted his head and looked at her curiously. "Does it have to be about something?"

She shrugged, still not looking at him. "Well, you know, when you first played for me, you said that the song you were playing was the type of person you were."

He regarded her carefully.

"Then, this song was you."

Her head jerked up and she stared at him. "What? That's the kind of person I am?" It was a stunning piece and all, but Maka didn't really think that it fit her personality. At all.

He smiled, eyes half closed. Then he leaned in close, so close that his lips brushed against her ear. "No," he whispered, sending shivers through her body, "that's how I feel about you."

_Yearning._

He got up, gently lowered the lid over the keyboard, and left the room.

_~end~_


	4. Nickname

**Nickname**

* * *

"Hey, hey, Spiky!" Angela ran up to the boy with the messy, electric blue hair. Black*Star turned around at the sound of his name and saw the little girl running towards him, a devilish smile on her face. He scowled at her darkly in an attempt to scare her away.

"You know, if you keep your face like that, it'll freeze!" she said cheerfully.

"Like hell if I care," he replied. He stuck his tongue out at her. Her eyes widened in shock at his profanity.

"Angela's gonna tell on Mifu – " She stopped suddenly. Her innocent face crumpled.

Black*Star looked down at her, his gaze hard. He'd never regretted killing Mifune, just as Mifune wouldn't have regretted killing Black*Star. It was a worthy death for someone as skilled as the swordsman to die at the hands of the great Black*Star. Black*Star respected the other man, and to have held back in their fight would have been an insult to Mifune's abilities. He would have wanted Mifune to extend the same courtesy towards him. It was one of the reasons why he'd been so eager for Mifune to fight him seriously. Doing so showed that Mifune acknowledged his own capabilities.

But his heart still twisted as he looked at the young witch before him, tears threatening to overflow from her large eyes. He crouched down so that they were at eye level.

"Hey," he said gruffly. "Why'd you call me?"

She wiped her face on her sleeve, then perked up and showed him a scrap of paper in her hand. It had his name on it.

"Look, look," she squealed. "When you take Spiky's initials," she flipped the paper around and showed him the other side, "it says BS! Angela's gonna call Spiky BS from now on!" Angela cackled to herself.

Black*Star's jaw dropped open. For the first time in his life, he was at loss for words.

Somewhere, he knew Mifune was laughing.

_~end~_


	5. Nightmares

**Nightmares**

* * *

**A/N: **Inspiration came from Winnie the Pooh. I am not even kidding.

_Piglet sidled up to Pooh from behind. _

_"Pooh!" he whispered. _

_"Yes, Piglet?" _

_"Nothing," said Piglet, taking Pooh's paw. "I just wanted to be sure of you."_

* * *

"_All of your friends are dead," sneers the kishin. "Your mama, your papa, Blair, all your teachers at Shibusen." He grins, the smile gruesomely stretching his face. "I've killed them all." He waves a bandaged hand and suddenly she sees the bodies of her friends sprawled in front of her. Tsubaki. Black*Star. Chrona. Kid. Liz. Patti. Soul. Their bodies are twisted at odd angles, and she can smell the iron tang of blood thick in the air. She runs over to them, heart in her mouth. It's just Asura's madness, it's just Asura's madness, she chants. She reaches Soul's body. He's face down, not moving. A large, dark stain blossoms from the center of his jacket._

"_Soul..." She reaches out, stretching trembling fingers towards his back. A hand suddenly grabs her wrist. Slowly, he raises his head. His hair covers his eyes._

"_Maka," he says softly, and his head snaps up._

_She jumps back, stifling a horrified scream._

_It's not Soul's face that's smiling at her, but Asura's._

Maka woke up with a gasp, heart thudding in her chest. Icy cold sweat drenched every portion of her body, and she felt adrenaline coursing through her veins. She sat up slowly, breathing hard, and placed her head in her hands. _It was just a dream_, she tried to reassure herself. _Just a dream. We still have time._ But it had been so vivid, the broken bodies of her friends, the blood splattered on the ground. Asura's laughter still rang in her ears. _Are you sure it was just a dream?_, he seemed to jeer. Maka got up unsteadily from her bed, wobbling on trembling legs. She was just going to check if he was okay, that was all.

Still shivering from cold fear, she opened the door to Soul's room. It was dark, except for the pale glow of the grinning moon shining through the window. He was snoring softly, a thin trickle of drool hanging out from his open mouth. She gave a small smile. He was almost cute when he was sleeping.

_He stretches out his hand greedily towards the soul. "Ahhhh," he says, opening his mouth wide, about to drop it in._

"_Soul," he hears her say from behind him. He pauses and turns around._

"_What?"_

"_Soul," she insists._

_Annoyed, he repeats himself. "What?"_

"Soul," he heard, "wake up." Blearily, he rubbed his tired red eyes with one hand and propped himself up on his elbow, glancing over at the alarm clock beside his bed.

"Maka…what the hell…it's three in the morning," he muttered drowsily, still half-asleep. "What are you doing?"

"I couldn't sleep," she admitted. "I had a nightmare."

"A what?" His brain wasn't functioning properly. A thick blanket of sleep made it impossible to perform any cognitive functions at this hour. "You woke me up at three in the morning 'cause you had a _nightmare?" _Irritated, he was about to pull the covers back over his head when something bright caught his eye. Much to his dismay, Soul noticed tear tracks on her cheeks, illuminated by the moon.

Inwardly, he groaned. He was _so _not in the mood for this. All he wanted to do was sleep. It wasn't too much to ask, was it? But he wouldn't be able to now without doing anything about it, not with her in this state. Grumpily, Soul sat up and hunched over next to her, stifling a huge yawn as he did so.

"You want to tell me about it?" he asked gruffly, scratching his head.

"No," she said. "I just wanted to see you," and to his surprise, rested her head on his shoulder.

He was really no good at this kind of stuff. It was so not cool to have to deal with crying girls. It was even worse to have to deal with crying girls at three in the morning.

It was just awful when the crying girl was your best friend.

He racked his sluggish brain, trying to think of something to say.

"_Wes," the little boy said, tugging at the sleeve of his sleeping brother. "I'm scared." The older boy got up immediately, rubbing his blue eyes and blinking to clear the sleep away. He looked very seriously at his younger brother, no older than five, and smiled. "You can stay here if you want."_

"Well," he began awkwardly, "I guess you can stay here if you want. I'll sleep on the floor," and he moved to get out of the bed.

She grabbed his wrist.

Soul felt his face grow hot. Really, now was not the time for this kind of stuff. But Maka was a tough girl, and if she had willingly admitted that she was scared…it must have been pretty bad. He sighed wearily.

"Fine, then," and he shifted on his small bed to make room for her. Gratefully, she settled down beside him. "You can have the pillow."

"It's okay," she said sleepily, and instead of moving away like he expected her to, she moved closer so that her head was resting against his chest. "You're really warm," she murmured.

If it had been any other time, Soul would have felt uncomfortable about the situation. But he was too tired, and all he wanted to do was sleep. _What the hell, _he thought and put his arms around her. _I'm only doing this because she's cold,_ he reassured himself, right before he drifted off to sleep as well.

Outside, the moon grinned at the peacefully slumbering figures nestled against each other.

* * *

Blair woke up the next morning, arching her back and digging her sharp little claws into the mattress exactly the way Maka told her not to. Fluffing her tail, she wiped a paw behind her ear and preened herself thoroughly, then padded towards Soul's room to give him her daily wake-up call. When she nosed the door open, she let out a soft _meow! _of surprise.

Soul and Maka. Sleeping. In the same bed.

She turned into her human form, and wiped proud tears from her eyes. Maka was growing up! She slipped out the door, deciding to give the two their privacy. She couldn't wait to tell Spirit at the club that his little daughter wasn't so little anymore – her weapon had made sure of _that_.

_~end~_


	6. BAM!

**BAM!**

* * *

"And just like that, BAM!" Black*Star nodded proudly, hands behind his head. He looked over at Soul, who was slumped over dejectedly on the bench next to him.

The two and their respective partners had decided on a game of basketball during their day off from soul collecting. Kid and his weapons couldn't make it. Liz had gravely informed Maka over the phone that Kid was doing his weekly redesigning of the house and was not to be disturbed, while Patti could be heard cackling manically in the background. They'd decided on taking a lunch break, and Black*Star and Soul had immediately separated themselves from the girls, sitting on the other side of the court and whispering urgently, much to the surprise of their partners.

"Just like that?" Soul questioned.

"Yeah. Just hit me one day. That's how it was for me and Tsubaki, at least."

"Don't think it'll work like that with Maka," said Soul, chewing on his lip. "Maka's so…well, she's different from Tsubaki, you know? A lot different. They aren't alike at all."

"Mmm, mmm," nodded Black*Star in agreement, and the two turned their heads to stare at the girls, who were now looking at their respective partners uneasily from across the court, lunch forgotten beside them. After a long, brooding pause, Soul continued.

"And Tsubaki's always, you know – "

"Ah, say no more, say no more. The all-knowing Black*Star understands completely."

They stared at the girls some more.

"Have faith," Black*Star patted Soul on the back, "your time will come."

"I dunno…" muttered Soul doubtfully, eyeing Maka's chest, then looking over at Tsubaki's much larger one.

"Trust me," said Black*Star confidently. "One day, BAM!"

_~end~_


	7. Pushing Ahead

**Pushing Ahead**

* * *

_Because she was always pushing herself._

"Just one more page," she'd murmur sleepily, turning a page in her textbook. He'd wake up in the middle of the night to use the bathroom and see a glow of light shining from under the crack of her door. He'd push open the door to see her studying late into the morning for a test that was next week.

"Come on, Maka, you gotta get some sleep."

She'd just smile at him wearily. "Don't worry about me, I'll be okay. I don't need that much sleep. I have to be at the top of the class, just like Mama was."

Dubious, he'd leave her room and close the door, yawning on his way out.

He knew that the average person needed seven to eight hours of sleep. She knew that she was only getting three to four.

* * *

"Just one more rep," she'd force out, straining her muscles as she struggled to lift the heavy weights even he had a hard time with.

"You know, it's bad to push yourself that hard. Too much training can end up hurting you in the long run," he'd say when she was done. She'd just wipe the sweat from her brow and dry her face with a towel.

"Black*Star trains twice as hard as I do. If he can do this, I can too."

"Black*Star is an idiot," he'd retort, angry at the comparison, the stupid reason why she was forcing herself. "Have you forgotten that we have _fifty-seven_ souls, and they haven't even collected _one?"_

She wouldn't say anything for a while, instead, she'd greedily suck down water from the bottle he'd hand her. When the water was gone, she'd look him straight in the eye. "Don't worry. My body will adjust. I can do this."

He knew she'd be so sore she couldn't walk tomorrow. And he knew that she knew it too.

* * *

"Just one more soul," she'd plead, before dragging him off to another mission. He'd be fine – his metal blades were much sharper and harder than tempered steel. She'd be the one getting sliced, burned, and gored by the enemy. She'd always stand triumphantly over the floating soul, before passing out and collapsing into his arms.

Later, he'd lean over her body on the hospital bed, weary relief etched onto his tired face as she stirred and woke up.

"I told you – "

She'd cut him off. "Sixty-three souls. Only thirty-seven left."

"That's not even the point. The _point _is that I'm really getting sick of watching you get hurt all the time and ending up on this bed."

"I'm gonna turn you into a Death Scythe, Soul. You're going to be the coolest Death Scythe ever – even better than Papa."

_I don't care, _he'd scream inside his head, frustrated. Outwardly, he'd just grab her hand and sit down on the edge of the hospital bed.

"Promise me you'll be more careful next time," he'd always say.

"I promise," she'd always respond.

They both knew she didn't mean it.

* * *

It scared him to death, it really did. The day was coming. It was inevitable.

He was afraid that one day, she'd push herself too far.

_~end~_


	8. Memories

**Memories**

* * *

_A girl, around fifteen or so. She has a pretty face, her hair tied up in pigtails, and she's wearing a look of deep concentration. Her dark green eyes seem to be trying to tell him something, but he can't read them. It's infuriating. Those eyes, those emerald eyes. They have a message, something important, a warning._

It's…

_The girl spins the scythe, somewhat clumsily, but with a determined look on her face. The blade of her weapon is black and red, jagged, like teeth. A large bug-like creature darted towards her, buzzing angrily, large ropes of saliva dripping from its pincer-like jaws. She closes her eyes nervously and swings the blade – it slices cleanly through the neck of the creature. The creature lets out an earsplitting shriek and writhes in its death throes, then it explodes and leaves behind a bright green orb. The scythe turns into a smirking teenage boy who reaches out to grasp the orb. Gingerly, he lifts it up and drops it whole into his wide open mouth. He looks up at the girl, who smiles awkwardly at him. They tentatively shake hands._

…just…

_The boy's dancing with the girl now, in a room with black and red checkered tiles. She looks beautiful – she's wearing a black dress and her hair is tied up with black silk ribbons. His crimson eyes are soft as they gaze gently down at the serious emerald eyes of the girl, and his arms tighten protectively around her. An ugly red ogre lurks in the corner of the room, its sinister yellow eyes gleaming in anticipation. It whispers softly to itself, so that the boy and girl can't hear._

_"Yes...take it...lose yourself to the madness..."_

…a memory…

_The girl spins the scythe gripped in her hands expertly, twirling it above her head effortlessly. She's a completely different person now. She has cuts and bruises all over her face; her face is contorted with concentration. The girl leaps back, breathing hard. She closes her eyes, concentrating. Then they snap open._

"_Soul Resonance!"_

_The metal blade of the scythe expands into a shimmering mirror, power emanating from the girl and her weapon. The girl smiles wickedly and swings it with ease, despite the large size of the gleaming blade, and lets out a blood-curdling war cry._

"_Demon Hunter!"_

…something fleeting…

_She's crying now, tears streaming down his face. The boy is gone, but there's two different ones there now, both restraining her. One has black hair with white stripes, he looks somber and grave. The other has spiky, electric blue hair and his face is furious and appalled. She claws at their arms, kicking and lurching forward, furious, but they hold her back. Her ash colored hair has fallen out of its neat pigtails; now it swings in front of her face like a curtain. The green eyes are desperate and shining with tears._

"_Maka…it's too late. There's nothing we can do."_

…Maka. A flash, a burst of light…

Then it's gone.

_Who am I?_

* * *

"_ASURA!_" she screams. "_Give him back! I know you've done something to him!" _Raw fury and grief make her incoherent.

The kishin just chuckles, and strokes Maka's face with one long finger, making her shudder with repulsion.

"Too late, my dear. He's already gone."

_~end~_


	9. Love

**Love**

* * *

She stares at the sleek black box being gently lowered into the pit. Her eyes are hard and flinty. She isn't crying and sobbing, she doesn't feel upset, she isn't frowning, she isn't even numb. She just watches the scene before her as though she's watching a movie.

Soul stands beside her, just close enough so that his arm brushes against hers lightly. Around her, people sob tearfully, lamenting the loss of the great Death Scythe, Spirit Albarn. Justin Law, who delivers the eulogy with headphones in his ears, praises Spirit for all of the extraordinary deeds he'd done in his short life.

"He was a great man, a noble man, who did all in his power to serve God and help others by ridding the world of evil. He will be missed sorely by his friends, and of course, his family."

Slowly, Stein lifts up a shovel and begins replacing the pit with the black dirt, packing it in firmly until there is just a small mound on the surface of the ground.

At the end of the funeral, people come up to her, patting her on the back and offering their condolences. She accepts them all, without bursting out into tears, her face completely blank. It's like she's not even at the funeral herself; it's just a puppet, just a doll dressed up like Maka Albarn who looks like Maka Albarn but isn't Maka Albarn, just someone people can come up to and console.

People she doesn't even know come up to embrace her, saying that Spirit was a great man and that he would be missed. She thanks them all emotionlessly. You're wrong, she wants to say. He wasn't a great man at all. He was a man, just a man, just like any other man, no greater and no less. There was nothing special about him. She watches as Tsubaki and Black*Star and Kid and Liz and Patti all come up, patting the back of Maka the Doll, and she watches them apologize and shed a few tears.

It's funny. They all think she's upset, like she's in some huge emotional turmoil over the loss of her beloved Papa. It isn't like that at all.

The only one who doesn't say anything is Soul, and she wonders vaguely why he doesn't try to comfort her as well. He just stands beside her, one hand jammed deep into the pocket of his dress pants, the other tugging at the uncomfortable tie around his neck, observing the scene unfolding before him with an air of detached curiosity. He doesn't even look at her once, to gauge her expression, to glance at her worriedly, to see if she's having a mental breakdown. She watches as Shinigami himself glides up to her, his mask unusually grave as he pats her on the head with a large hand and says a few words of reassurance. Maka the Doll, that's who everyone sees, just curtsies and bows before Shinigami, thanking him for his kind words.

And when everyone has left, except for her partner, she's still standing there, still staring at the mound of freshly dug earth where her father rests six feet under. She contemplates it, thinking hard.

"You know, I hated him." She says it out loud, not to Soul, but just so that she can hear her own thoughts. He doesn't respond, doesn't even look over at her.

"I really hated him. He was a cheating bastard, that's all he was." She isn't angry, her voice is matter-of-fact. "I was so happy the day he divorced Mama. Because she didn't deserve him. She deserved better than you," and she realizes that she's addressing the corpse below her.

"You were a terrible father. You said you loved us, and maybe you did. I'll never know. It doesn't matter anymore, at least. Now that you're gone, it doesn't matter to me. It doesn't matter to you either, does it?" she muses.

"It's just the way you like it, isn't it? Just running away and avoiding the problem? That's what you've always done. In fact," her voice rises, "I bet you planned this. I bet you planned it this way, so that you could run away from me and Mama forever! Because you were too scared!" And now, finally, the tears start coming, thick and fast. It's Maka, and not Maka the Doll, now. She kneels down on the soft earth and screams at the ground, at her dead father. "You were always scared! You never faced the problem! That's why I hate you!" Tears drip down her face and soak the dirt beneath her. She digs her fingers deep into the ground and her body shakes with hate and anger.

Behind her, Soul watches impassively, still not moving an inch.

It begins to rain softly, not a hard pouring rain, but a gentle, cleansing rain like the sky itself is weeping. She sits up slowly, resting on her heels, and lifts her face to the clouds, contemplating the sky.

"Yes," she says softly, speaking to the heavens above her as they shed raindrops down on her face. "_That's_ why I hate you." The dirt begins to turn into mud, and still she doesn't move. The rain mixes with the tears, concealing her crying. And still Soul stands there, hands in his pockets, watching his partner. She lets the raindrops splash down on her and soak every inch of her body.

Then she gets up slowly, brushing her hands off on the skirt of her ruined dress. She looks at Soul.

"Aren't you going to hug me and ask me if I'm okay?" she challenges.

He doesn't move for a second, still gazing at the soft mound of dirt, but then he turns slowly to face her. The crimson eyes search the jade ones intently; he scrutinizes her face and she stares back, testing him. Wordlessly, he reaches out and gently takes her hand; she grips his tightly. She leans against his side, and they both watch as rivulets of muddy water begin to flow towards them, clear raindrops splashing and contrasting against the dark brown.

It's just a short shower, a summer thing, and eventually the grey clouds dissipate, leaving behind a pale blue sky.

_~end~_


	10. World Domination

**World Domination**

* * *

Eruka hopped up on the windowsill of Chrona's dungeon cell, grumbling to herself. She really hated being Medusa's lackey, but there was nothing she could do. Grumbling in frustration, she peered through the bars on the window and called out.

"Chrona! Hey, Chrona!"

Chrona looked up at the small, green frog poking its head through the bars of his cell and felt his stomach sinking. He knew what would come next – an interrogation about what Maka and her friends were up to, then more instructions sent by Medusa-sama. He felt guilt squirm within him.

"Y-yes?" he stammered, looking pitifully up at the frog. Ragnarok popped out from his back and beat the back of his head with his little hands.

"Don't be so pathetic, you useless piece of shit!"

Chrona felt like crying.

Eruka felt bad for the boy. Despite her loathing for Medusa, her son didn't seem too bad. She tried asking him nicely.

"How was your day?"

Chrona brightened a little. "I wrote some poetry! I think Maka and everyone else really liked it."

"Really? Do you want to show me?"

Ragnarok sneered. "Don't bother, it's the worst thing I've ever read in my life." But Chrona brought out the little slip of paper anyways. Eruka hopped down from her perch and leaped over. Chrona bent down and showed her the poem. She read it with large eyes…

She thought her heart was going to break. Despair settled upon her. It was over. There was no point in living. She may as well die right now. Death was –

"Eruka? Are you okay?"

The frog didn't respond. After an hour or so of Chrona asking the frog if she was alright, and Ragnarok browbeating Chrona, the frog finally turned around and hopped desolately out the window without saying anything.

"That's weird," murmured Chrona. "Maka and her friends had the same reaction…"

"Probably 'cause they hated your poetry so much!" jeered Ragnarok.

It took Eruka much longer to reach Medusa than normal. She moved slowly, struggling through a fog of depression and darkness. When she finally reached the other witch, she was almost in tears again.

"What took you so long?" demanded Medusa. Rather than protesting loudly, Eruka turned back into her human form and shook her head, subdued.

"Tell me what the problem is, or I'll explode the snakes in your body here and now."

"I welcome death," replied Eruka softly. "I'm sorry I was ever born."

"What is wrong with you?"

"Chrona wrote a poem…" she trailed off.

"_Chrona_ wrote a _poem?_ I see. I would be depressed too. I'm sure it was awful."

"No. It's just…it was so…" Eruka struggled to find words to describe the poem. Medusa gave her a condescending glance.

"Well, as the boy's mother, I think I deserve to see this poem of his, don't you think? Bring it to me tomorrow."

Eruka just nodded in acquiescence and ambled off, head hanging down limply.

The next day, she hopped solemnly back towards the cell. Without preamble, she demanded Chrona hand over the poem he'd written.

"Uh, okay," he said, and gave her the poem, which she stuck in her mouth, careful not to read it again. Then she hopped back towards Medusa.

When she handed Medusa the poem, the other witch glanced at it appraisingly.

"Well, it's okay. There are a few spelling errors, but that's to be expected. Free, what do you think?"

Eruka just gaped. Free walked over and took the small piece of paper in one of his large hands.

"Well, I don't know how to read," he said, scratching his head belatedly.

"Oh, for the love of – Give it here." Medusa snatched back the poem and read it out loud to the other two. Eruka forgot to clap her hands over her ears. When Medusa was done reading, she looked up to see both the frog witch and the werewolf crouching on the floor, rocking back and forth with tears streaming down their faces.

"I'm…sorry I was born," they both whispered.

Medusa watched the reactions of the two. An idea had just popped into her head, and she rubbed her hands together in anticipation. A loud, shrill laughter filled the chamber, echoing off the walls and sending shivers down Eruka's spine. Medusa leered evilly, a sinister smile stretching across her features. "With this, I can finally control the world! Nobody will be able to resist the powers of this poem! All will cringe before me!"

Eruka looked at her, confused.

"Not to be rude, but how exactly are you going to show that poem to the rest of the world?"

Medusa snarled at her. "Idiot," she fumed, "it's called twenty-first century technology." She pointed at a large, white dish. "Satellite television."

Eruka gasped in awe at Medusa. Truly, she was the most devious of all witches.

And that was how Medusa Gorgon was able to achieve world domination.

_~end~_

**A/N: **I guess this is what you'd call a crackfic.


	11. Study Buddies

**Study Buddies**

* * *

"_Damn it," _he hissed, gritting his teeth. There was no other option. The enemy was far too strong for him alone. He'd have to resort to…to _that._

* * *

Soul stared at the open textbook in front of him. He'd been staring at it for _hours_ trying to cram study for the test that was tomorrow.

It was no use. The words kept swimming in front of his eyes and he kept doodling mindlessly on a sheet of notebook paper.

_Maybe I shouldn't have gone over to Black*Star's house yesterday_, he sighed. _Or the day before that. Or…the day before that._

Soul got up, slamming his hands down on the desk. He didn't like it, but there was only one thing for him to do. Sometimes, you just had to swallow your pride. He stuck the piece of paper he'd been doodling on and his study guide into his textbook, then cracked his knuckles and muttered inspirational quotes to himself.

* * *

Maka was dutifully reviewing her notes for the last time. She'd studied in small chunks over the course of the entire week and she felt well prepared. She turned the page and a few moments later closed her textbook shut. Yawning, she stretched, then shook out her arms. She picked up a sleeping Blair from her desk and was about to get into bed when she heard knocking on her door.

"Come in," she said. The door opened and Soul poked his head in, looking uncomfortable.

"Listen, Maka, there's something I wanted to ask you. I really don't under – " He blinked. "Hey, is that my shirt?"

She scowled darkly. "Blair took all my old pajamas and threw them away. I haven't had a chance to go out and buy any new ones, so I took your old shirt. She said I looked like a five year old," she said, glaring down at the oversized shirt she was now wearing as a nightgown.

Soul secretly agreed with Blair, then shook his head. "Whatever. Anyway, there's something I didn't understand in this chapter. Do you…do you think you could help me?" he managed to choke out. He couldn't believe he'd stooped so low as to ask for help from Maka.

She blinked at him, then cupped her hand around one ear. "I don't think I heard you right. Did you just ask me to help you _study_?"

He flushed and turned to go. "It's fine, really, I don't know what I was think – "

Maka laughed. "I'm just kidding. What part do you need help on?"

Soul relaxed and walked over to her bed, sitting down on the side. He opened the textbook with the worksheet stuck inside it.

"Well…all of it, actually."

"MAKA CHOP!" She slammed her own textbook over his head.

"OUCH!" he shouted. "What was that for?"

"Didn't I _tell _you not to go to Black*Star's house?"

* * *

An hour later, Soul was rubbing his head ruefully. Maka was a tough teacher – she beat the lessons into her students. Literally.

"Look, Soul," she sighed. "It's really not that hard. 'A sound soul dwells within a sound mind and a sound body.' Soul, mind, and body. Got it?"

"Soul, mind, and what?"

* * *

An hour and a half later, Soul was holding an ice pack to his head while writing on his study guide with the other.

"True or False," he read out loud. "The Salem Witch Trials were lead by an early branch of Shibusen. Ummm, false." He circled the F with his pencil and looked up at Maka. "That right?" She smiled at him approvingly, and he let out a sigh of relief.

"I think that's it," she said. "We covered the main parts of each chapter and went over the study guide. You'll pass, at least. You better," she added, a glint in her eyes.

"I will, I will," he reassured her hastily. He got up from the bed and picked up his textbook. The sheet of paper he'd been doodling on fluttered to the ground. "Thanks, Maka," he added sincerely.

"No problem." She bent down to pick up the worksheet and looked at it for a second, brow furrowed. Then she handed it to him.

"Hey, Soul."

"Yeah?"

"Why did you write my name about fifty times on your worksheet with a million little hearts next to it?"

_~end~_


	12. Swimming Lessons

**Swimming Lessons**

* * *

"No, Soul, I swear if you come a _step_ closer, I will Maka Chop you until what little brains you have are splattered on the ground," she threatened, her voice unusually shrill.

He paused, affronted. "I've got _plenty_ of brains, thank you very much."

"I _mean_ it."

Soul stared at her. Her eyes were huge and her face was pale. Even when facing the kishin Asura by herself, she hadn't looked this terrified.

"Maka," he asked incredulously, "do you not know how to swim?"

Her reaction confirmed it.

"Of _course_ I know how to. I just don't choose to. You know how many people pee in the ocean, Soul? In fact, the ocean is pretty much a giant waste deposit for all the –"

He cut her off, laughing. "I can't believe this. The great Maka Albarn, who killed the kishin just by punching him in the face, does not know how to swim?"

"MAKA CHOP!" but he barely felt the heavy book slam over his head in the light of his new discovery.

"C'mon," he said lightly. "I'll teach you." He scanned the beach. Black*Star was wrestling a shark (wait, _what?_) and Tsubaki was helplessly watching. Kid was building a perfectly symmetrical sandcastle while Liz was tanning next to him, and Patti was surfing. "Nobody's paying attention," he offered, sticking out his hand. "It's nothing to be embarrassed of. Plenty of people don't know how to swim."

She looked at him fearfully, eyes wide.

"When I was three, I fell off the dock into Death Lake. I almost drowned," she whispered.

He rolled his eyes in exasperation. "That's why I'm here. I won't let you drown, I promise. Trust me," he insisted, shaking his outstretched hand at her. "You can read a book any old day."

She bit her lip doubtfully, but then took his hand and he pulled her up.

They walked a little ways off from everywhere else and Soul waded into the ocean.

"It's not that hard. What you have to remember is – Maka? Oi, Maka!" He looked around to see her standing at the very edge of the water, eying the baby waves that lapped the surface of the beach. Irritated, he marched back and dragged her into the ocean, despite her shrieks of protest.

"It's cold!"

"You'll get used to it," he said mercilessly. They were now standing waist deep in the water. "Okay, now just take my hands and float in the water."

She gawked at him. "Just like that? You expect me to swim in the water just by holding your hands?"

He sighed wearily. This was much harder than he'd expected it to be. "You have to learn how to float before you can swim. Just take my hands and relax. You'll float on your back."

She looked at him dubiously. "Well, if you're sure." She gripped his hands tightly and…sunk like a rock.

"Aargh!" she shrieked, water filling her open mouth.

He sighed and grabbed her by the arm, yanking her up. "Maka, give me a break. The water's about three feet high."

She coughed, spitting out the salty water, and wrung out her pigtails. "Forget it, Soul, I'm going back. This is pointless."

She began marching back towards the shore, before a receding wave belted her in the stomach and she fell face first into the waves. Laughing, Soul snaked an arm around her waist and dragged her back deeper into the ocean. "Let's try this again."

She pouted. "Look, it's not like I'll ever need to swim anyways."

That was the problem, he realized. Maka had no motivation to learn swimming.

Motivation. What drove Maka to work so hard? What gave her the ability to stay up late into the night studying, stay after school for hours to train extra? The answer, he realized, was simple. He should've done it from the start.

"Maka," he said abruptly. "Do you know how many meisters out there know how to swim?"

She froze, her green eyes hardening. "What are you trying to say?"

"Look at Black*Star over there. You're always talking about how we're a greater team than he and Tsubaki are. But he's fighting off _sharks_ with his bare hands. And Patti, she's not even a meister, but she's surfing like a pro. Kim, Ox, Kid, Kilik? I guarantee you all of them know how to swim. What happens when we take a mission near the ocean or water? You'll be so paralyzed that you won't be able to move. Don't you want to be the top of the class? You can't be the best if everyone else knows how to swim except for you."

She glared at him, hands on her hips, but they both knew he'd won. "Fine," she ground out. "Teach me how to swim."

Smiling, he took her hands again. "Okay, we'll try it a different way. You need to relax, Maka, you can't swim if you're all tense like that." Gently, he placed the palm of his hands underneath her back. She recoiled from his touch. "Relax," he said softly.

She looked up at him, her eyes large with fright. "Soul, if I drown, I swear I'll kill you," she said, trying to hide her vulnerability.

"Just relax. I won't let go of you."

He supported her for a few minutes, watching the waves lap over her taut stomach. Blair had forced her into a bikini after throwing away all of her one-pieces ("Maka-chan, though you may not be as big as Blair-chan, you've got some pretty sexy legs!"), and her skin felt silky over his sensitive fingertips. Slowly, he felt her muscles begin to loosen and relax. He smiled to himself and slid his hands out from under her stomach. Maka floated for a few seconds, before realizing that his hands were gone, then began thrashing her limbs and disappeared beneath the surface of the water, only to pop up a few seconds later.

"SOUL! You said you wouldn't let go!"

He laughed and darted away deeper into the ocean, where the water was chest high. She followed after him angrily, splashing through the waves.

"Can't catch me," he teased, swimming further until he could no longer feel the sand beneath his toes.

"Just watch!" she shouted defiantly and swam after him, cutting through the water like an arrow. Soul blinked, surprised at her newfound swimming abilities, only to have his head shoved under the water. He resurfaced for air, spluttering and coughing. Then he grinned cheekily.

"I'm a good teacher, huh?"

"What?" He gestured towards her, and only then did Maka notice that she was effortlessly treading water. "Oh….thanks."

He swam around her, like shark. "But you know, I'm expecting payment. You can't just take swimming lessons for _free._"

She eyed him warily. "What do you want? You know we didn't bring anything to the beach."

"Nothing like that." He dipped under the water, out of sight, and she panicked. Then he resurfaced right in front of her and kissed her suddenly on the lips, his hands on her back crushing her body against his.

Maka pulled back, gasping, and her face turned blood-red. Soul smirked at her before diving back underwater.

"Oh yeah?" she yelled. "You can't just steal kisses like that for _free! _Just wait till you see what _I _want!_"_

_~end~_

**A/N: **I suddenly pictured Maka busting out into "Teach Me How to Dougie" right when she tells Soul to teach her how to swim.


End file.
